Congrats to Kate and Paul who got hitched over the weekend. Looks like it was a good time.
I mentioned Thea’s superior gift-giving ability. It reminded me of my father’s ineptitude in this department.
So, for anyone that has ever given or gotten a crappy gift, you can compare with my dad’s Hall of Fame. These were all gifts to my mother that I actually remember. She probably could remember more, although she probably has securely locked the memories away in her subconscious.
1. A bird’s nest. Complete with artificial bird.
2. Elephant-feet slippers.
3. A bag of disposable razers.
Filed under: Feeling Cheeky, General Nonsense, Korean Adventures, Matrimony
I’ve heard rumblings from two different couples about a lack of “perfect peace” in the relationship. By perfect peace, I mean a God-given certainty and confidence that the person you are with is part of a Plan that is being perfectly followed. I have no doubt that there are couples in a state of perpetual bliss, but my experience is that there’s no shame in moments of uncertainty. I don’t understand why we look for perfect confidence and peace in choosing our partners, but allow for improvement with our perfect love, joy, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I think we’re afraid of making a mistake in the whole life-partner decision so we want to know that we have the Cosmic Okey-Dokey from God. It’s also perpetuated by the idea that there’s one perfect soul-mate for us.
I don’t think Thea is my perfect soul-mate. I think she has brought out qualities that have transformed me into a better person, but there are also times when she makes me feel like crap. It’s all a perception thing, really. Thea likes to buy me things. And she buys me really great things. And then she’s ever-so-slightly disappointed when the gifts that I choose for her… don’t quite match up. I’m just not as good at it. It’s not my forte. But I’m trying. On the flip side of the low down, Thea occasionally pretends not to know me. I, on the other hand, always… act like I know her. I forget where I was going with this.
Ah, yes. When we first started dating I was plagued with uncertainty and horrified that I was so uncertain. I was sure that it was a sign that we weren’t meant to be. The second time we started dating, I still lacked a “perfect peace” but I knew that she had all these qualities to which I was attracted and admired, not the least of which was her smoke-producing hotness. (Incidentally, she’s also quite literally like a living hot water bottle. Unfortunately, I’ve discovered that heat-producing individuals do not care to share their heat with their husband’s cold feet and are quite content to let him thaw out shivering and alone. Tip: Do not try to sneak your cold feet onto another person’s person as they may spit.)
Which isn’t to say that God doesn’t infuse relationships with peace and love. I just think that too often we expect God-given peace to replace all the hard work needed to make a relationship work.
Of course, I’m sitting home alone with Hattori because I refused to go into the city and Thea refused to stay home.
A great aspect of marriage is that I have an unfailing indicator of when my toenails need to be cut: The moment when my big toe slices the skin on Thea’s ankle.
Late last night I made a quick trip to a nearby convenience store to grab some snacks for some late-night movie-watching. As I walked home, looking at the sky and listening to the relative peacefulness, I felt at home. I felt the same thing on Christmas Eve. I can’t recall now why I was walking home alone, but I do remember watching the dark clouds move across the dark sky and trying to distinguish one from the other. I love when clouds cross the moon.
The moments when I’ve felt at home in Korea have been infrequent at best. Our situation here is ideal, but it’s difficult to garner a sense of fellowship in a culture so different from our own. Or perhaps I’m simply close-minded. I’m more of a country-boy at heart, so it’s possible the barrage of city-life is affecting my perception.
They found a 6,000 year old couple buried together and embracing. It made me think of when Thea t
old me that if she dies before me, I’m to be buried with her. If that’s the case, I’m putting on a hilarious show in the open casket at her funeral. I’ll lift her hand and pretend she’s picking my nose and whatnot. Hopefully I’ll have some time to work on the routine.
The other day, I actually found myself angrily saying exactly the same thing to a student that a teacher once said to me. In Grade 2 I had a habit of yelling “Hometime” at the last bell. One time, I mistakenly yelled this at the second-to-last bell and Mrs. Patterson barked, “If you’re so eager to leave, maybe you’d like to spend some time in the hall.” I was surprised because she was usually a very kind woman (incidentally, she taught me how to tie my shoes… in Grade 2… yeah). And now I can completely see things from her perspective. I put in an effort to make class engaging for the kids, who don’t seem to appreciate it at all. It’s frustrating. I’m sorry that grammar is boring, I’m not teaching it for my own amusement. But back with Mrs. Patterson, I hadn’t intended to irritate her at all. I was just excited to go home… regardless of the quality of her class. My enthusiasm had nothing to do with her. Too bad I didn’t figure all this out before I snapped at my student. It’s difficult maintaining order while trying to be lovable. I think Dan was probably better at it.
Remember that song with the two mice singing about being back together? What was it called? “Somewhere Out There” from the movie “An American Tail.” Cute song. Anyway, as schmaltzy as it is, the night sky reminds me that the world isn’t so big, even though it makes me feel so small sometimes. And we really are looking at the same sky. Even if my sky is smudged with yellow dust from the Gobi Desert.
Finally, Thea has taken to placing a small mirror beside Hattori’s bowl in order to goad him into attacking his reflection. He puffs his cheeks and furiously flutters against the glass, poor thing.
Filed under: General Nonsense
If you have a minute, check out this big fan of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Interesting tidbit: I saw both TMNT 1 & 2 on opening night. Of course, I was 9 and 11 years old, respectively.
… that you’ll be excited to know that I got a fish for my birthday. A Japanese Fighting Fish named Hattori.
So I’m 27. I spent the day mildly depressed that I’m so old. I’ve never been a big fan of the whole birthday thing. Especially the year that Frasier attacked my face.
